


Pathetic

by rivalshipping



Series: Weary [4]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, Crying, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:32:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivalshipping/pseuds/rivalshipping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pickles is sure he's not worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pathetic

**Author's Note:**

> this is self indulgent and may be out of character
> 
> cross posted from [my fanfiction blog](http://transklok.tumblr.com/)
> 
> non consecutive to the other stories in this series and may get a sequel
> 
> thank you for reading

Most nights Toki ended up in Pickles’ bed. Unlike Skwisgaar and Nathan, who would be perfectly happy to have a couple shots and fuck groupies all night, Pickles liked to do things. He and Toki would get high—Toki didn’t like anything stronger than weed and Pickles was willing to cooperate—and watch movies, or talk about Toki’s music, or lazily kiss and play with each other’s hair.

So Pickles’ already low groupie count was even lower now, restricted to afterparties and times when Toki actually wanted to spend a night or two practicing with Skwisgaar. Toki liked to kiss his fans, and maybe get to second base a few times, but the only times he really had sex were with Pickles.

The aforementioned drummer brought up this inconsistency a few times, upset that Toki wasn’t demanding monogamy from him but mostly sticking to it himself, but Toki knew it would be a mistake to limit their relationship that way. Pickles wasn’t defined by sex the way Skwisgaar was, but he liked the occasional athletic fucking marathon with beautiful women who loved him for his money. Pretending they could be successfully monogamous would definitely get one of them hurt in the long run.

So, five nights out of seven, Toki knocked on Pickles’ door, got reminded that he never had to knock, and fell into bed with him.

“Yous real quiet, Pickle,” Toki murmured, watching Pickles kiss the tips of each of his callused fingers. “What’s wrong?”

Pickles’ piercing green eyes flicked up to him, pupils blown wide, and then back to his task. His room was dark, the flat screen across from the bed black and every light turned off, but the faint glow from his alarm clock was enough for Toki to tell that Pickles was high on _something_.

Shifting closer, Toki replaced his fingers with his lips, sliding his knee between Pickles’. Pickles kissed back for a moment, then seemed to get a hold of himself and pulled away, hiding his face against Toki’s neck. “Pickle, talks to me.”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Pickles pulled out of Toki’s embrace to lean over him and search through his bedside table. He came back with a capped bottle of lube, which he dropped at Toki’s side in favor of shucking off his underwear and straddling Toki’s already naked form. The guitarist’s hands came up to his hips on instinct, but he was as much holding him up as holding him back.

“Stop,” he said forcefully. “Tells me what’s wrong.”

Pickles shook his head, trying to pick the lube back up, but his hands were shaking too much. “Fuck me,” he repeated wetly, wiping at his face. “Please.”

Toki couldn’t have been less aroused if he tried. “I can’t, Pickle. Not untils I understands why.”

That was the trigger word for Pickles’ emotional dam. He looked up, eyes red and wet and face ashen, but there weren’t any tears on his cheeks. “Why? Why me? I don’t fuckin’ know, Toki. That’s what I’ve been tryin’ tah understand fer months now. I can’t even be an _average_ boyfriend, I’m fuckin’ chicks left ‘n right an’ you keep sayin’ it’s okay, but what am I givin’ you?” He took a shaky breath, then exhaled in a sob that wracked his small frame. “You give me _everything_ , and what the _fuck_ am I givin’ you?”

“Hush.” Toki frowned, sitting up without removing Pickles from his lap. “I doesn’t have the English words to explains to you what’s I feels about you,” he said in a low voice, pulling Pickles forward so they were pressed chest to chest, “So I will fucks you. Because maybes this will help you see. But I does have the words to tells you that what’s you thinks is the other way around.”

Pickles scoffed, sniffling pathetically. “Fuckin’ liar.” Toki’s frown deepened and he flipped them so Pickles was on his back.

“Yous not even hard, Pickle,” Toki sighed, his hair falling in a curtain of privacy around them. “You doesn’ts really wants this.”

Instead of arguing, Pickles huffed, turning his head away. Toki kissed his cheek and jaw gently. “I wan’ it,” Pickles mumbled without conviction. Toki continued to kiss him until the corner of his mouth lifted. “Toki…” he breathed.

“I doesn’t likes to sees yous upset.” A tear ran over the bridge of Pickles’ nose and Toki kissed that away as well. “Talks to me.”

Pickles inhaled deeply, exhaling through his nose. “Get mad at me.”

“No.”

“Make me stahp fuckin’ girls.”

“No.”

“Break up wit’ me.”

“No.” Toki turned Pickles to face him with one gentle hand, kissing him to silence whatever other inane request he was going to make. “ _Hush_.” He held Pickles’ gaze, running his hand over his shoulder and chest and soft stomach to the neatly trimmed thatch of hair above his cock. Pickles’ eyes widened, his already blown pupils widening until there was only a sliver of green around them. Toki pressed his half-hard dick against Pickles’, wrapping his hand around both and stroking slowly.

The drummer moaned under his breath, still staring at Toki. The fact that he looked cried-out was a huge turnoff for Toki but he worked through it, reaching for the lube, uncapping it, and pouring it directly onto his cock. Pickles whimpered when Toki started stroking them again, wrapping his thin arms around Toki’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

“Are ya gonna fuck me now?” Pickles asked against Toki’s mouth. Instead of a verbal response, Toki twisted his hand around the head of Pickles’ cock in the way that always made him incoherent. Sure enough, Pickles didn’t say anything else, letting Toki do all the work.

Toki panted onto Pickles’ cheek, wanting to hide his eyes from Pickles’ intense scrutiny, but that would mean conceding his point. He wanted to bare his feelings as best he could and since Pickles couldn’t speak Norwegian, the cliche soul-searching glance would have to do. “After you cum,” Toki whispered, “I’s gonna get you some water and we’s gonna talk.” Pickles began to shake his head, bucking his hips into Toki’s fist, but then Toki nipped at his lower lip and he whimpered, nodding once.

Sooner than normal, probably because of the ephedrine or some other upper he was taking, Pickles tangled his fingers into Toki’s hair and tugged, groaning as the first spurts of cum shot from his cock onto their stomachs. Toki took another few seconds before he was cumming as well, fueled by Pickles’ oversensitive whimpers.

They laid quietly for almost ten minutes, letting their breath slow naturally and sharing lazy kisses. “I loves you, Pickle,” Toki said, not pulling away because of Pickles’ hands still clutching the hair at the base of his neck. Pickles frowned a bit, disbelieving, but Toki continued, “I knows you needs those womens, but I knows you loves me more so I doesn’t care.”

“I’m sahrry,” Pickles replied in the same serious tone, but Toki shook his head, kissing across his forehead to smooth his frown. “As soon as you want me tah stahp, I will.”

“I knows.” Toki sat up, detangling Pickles’ hands from his hair and kissing them. “I’ll bes right back.” He slid out of bed, leaving Pickles to stare at the spots where Toki kissed him and smile.


End file.
